


Before the War(drobe)

by realismandromance



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 08:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17240906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realismandromance/pseuds/realismandromance
Summary: Long before the Pevensies ever entered Narnia, Digory Kirke and Polly Plummer forged a fast friendship which would go on to last for decades. Here are seven untold vignettes about that magical time before the war and the wardrobe.





	Before the War(drobe)

> _'All right, I have then,' said Digory in a much louder voice, like a boy who was so miserable that he didn't care who knew he had been crying. 'And so would you,' he went on, 'if you'd lived all your life in the country and had a pony, and a river at the bottom of the garden, and then been brought to live in a beastly Hole like this.'_

This is a story about something that happened long ago when your great-great-grandfather was a child. It is a sequence of small stories, really – seven in all, that fit in with a book named  _The Magician's Nephew_  and written by a man named C. S. Lewis, and you should read that before you read these – and it begins with a boy called Digory Kirke.

Digory was about twelve years old, an only child, and he lived with his mother and a number of servants in a lovely house in the country. He had a pony and a river at the bottom of the garden, and had lived there all his life while his Father was away on business in India. If you had asked him what he thought of this life, he would have answered you readily enough that things were perfectly splendid.

And then, rather slowly, things began to take a sad turn for the worst.

It began with Mother's cough – something Digory did not notice much of at first, because he was far too busy having fun, and had no time to be worried. If you have ever, as a child, been affected by a grown-up problem, then you will know that it is difficult for the problem to seem quite real until it threatens an important part of your life. And Mother's cough went on to threaten an important part of Digory's life in a very real way. There were more and more days that didn't seem properly bright and happy, as if a great cloud were looming overhead and blocking out the sun, and doctor's visits came at a startling frequency that Digory could not ignore. One afternoon, Digory, who was in the corridor outside his mother's room, could only make out a few phrases from the doctor, such as 'mark my words', 'relations', 'as soon as possible', 'proper care' and 'bad business', and he even heard Mother say his own name, after which the doctor added something too quiet for Digory to hear.

But when the doctor left, Mother called Digory into her room, and she talked to him for a long time. It was horrible to see her lying in bed the way she was, all wan and only an echo of her usual jolly self, and the news she gave Digory was even harder to bear. For the two of them were going to leave this lovely house in the country and stay with Aunt Letty and Uncle Andrew in London (Aunt Letty and Uncle Andrew were Mother's sister and brother), and Aunt Letty was going to take care of Mother while Mother was ill.

'Only until I'm quite better,' Mother made sure to tell Digory. Her tone was not as cheerful as her words, which unfortunately had the contrary effect of making Digory thoroughly miserable. 'And then Father may come home from India to see us, and everything will be the way it was again.'

But Digory couldn't help noticing the way Mother said, 'Father  _may_ ,' as if this suggestion of a re-aligned future was less certain than she would let on. 'Everything will be the way it was again' was an awfully vague way of putting things, after all. At first, he looked forwards to moving, in an optimistic, backwards sort of way, for he was the sort of person who wanted to know everything, and London might be an adventure in itself.

Aunt Letty and Uncle Andrew lived behind one of the doors in a long row of houses, all alike. Their house was plain within and without, and had a tiny back garden surrounded by a wall. Digory's own room was small and colourless – a far cry from the lovely one he'd had in the country. To make things worse, Digory discovered that he did not much like his Uncle Andrew.

Uncle Andrew had the strangest habit of trying to talk to Digory at mealtimes – about what, Digory never could tell, because Aunt Letty always changed the subject swiftly. Additionally, Uncle Andrew's study was at the very top of the house, and Aunt Letty said Digory must never enter. However, Digory had to pass the foot of the attic stairs to get to his own room (which he was not too enthused about) – and last night, he was certain he'd heard a yell.

It was the sort of dull, grey London day which had become very familiar to Digory over the past few months – and again was unlike what Digory had been used to in the country. He was in the back garden, idly tugging at weeds and busy feeling very sorry for himself and his poor Mother when he heard a noise from beyond the neighbouring wall.

Desperate for something to happen, and not much caring who saw him, he dried his face with his grimy hands, stepped onto the rocks that lined Aunt Letty's prim garden and stuck his head over the wall.

There was a girl standing in the neighbouring garden – a blonde girl about Digory's age or a little younger, wearing a blue dress of the sort that little girls wore in those times. When she saw Digory, she looked both surprised and immensely curious.

'Hullo,' said the girl.

'Hullo,' said Digory.


End file.
